In The Maze Of The Lost Hearts

I sighed and sighed and sighed. The words I typed in the computer just wouldn’t connect themselves properly. No magic could evolve from this sentences. I felt the demon of frustration sitting down next to me and making itself comfortable to stay for a while. Time to sigh again. A whirlwind of golden magic ripped through my living room. My wonderful muse appeared and her sigh, that echoed through the house, was much more dramatic, that my unworthy mortal ones. She dropped down on my sofa and I hurried to change it per thought to a luxury chaise longue. “Play something for me!”, she ordered with a weak voice. “Play the flute for me!” Panic was rising. What was wrong with her? Helplessly chaotic, I fumbled around. “But I have no flute on me!”, I said shocked. The muse reached out to me and in her hand a wonderful flute of shimmering gold appeared. “Play!”, she demanded again. I was relieved as the first tone found his way out of the instrument. My muse looked like she was in pain, I felt like, I had to play for her life. And I played. She closed her eyes. The sound of the flute was clearly magical. I played so much better, than I actually can. Everything seemed to calm down. “That’s better!”, she said after a while. “So much better!” I gave her the flute back and now she played a little piece of perfect musical magic. I had to wipe tears from my eyes after she had finished, because her tune had been way too beautiful to stay cool. “Better”, she said and her usual beautiful smile appeared. “Tell me about your heart”, she started our conversation.

“My heart?” It’s pumping blood, it’s in my chest – Where was a muse-worthy answer to this request?

“Do you know this situation”, she asked, “when all the others around you have an opinion on what your heart should feel? When they think, they know better? And when they act, as if you could choose your feelings?” That was a new appearing intimacy between us and I didn’t want to spoil it. “Well, at least I think, I know, what you are talking about”, I said.

She sighed again. “Then tell me one thing, do you think it is possible to choose, who to love?”

This is a test, I thought, and she clearly could hear that. “That is not a test. I really want to know, what your opinion is.”

“Well”, I started shy, “I think you can choose between things like going into a relationship, or building up a friendship or keeping a distance – things like that. But no, you can clearly not choose, who to love and ever so important, who not to love.”

My muse looked intrigued. “You can not choose, who not to love”, she repeated. “That is so true”, she whispered, absorbed in thought. I watched her closely, curious about the story behind her question. She didn’t give it away. Instead she stated after a while: “You are an experienced lover”, she stated.

“No, I… I’m not…”

“I am not talking about, what you think, I am talking about. I might be a daughter of Zeus, but I am more interested in the love of the heart. And you love a lot, that was the first thing, I saw, when I laid my eyes upon you.”

That was a nice revelation. I felt my cheeks blushing. “I’m feeling very lucky, because I have so much to love. Husband, kids, friends, horses, …”

“Cats, fauns and muses”, she fulfilled my sentence with a cheeky grin.

“Chocolate, giraffes, music, the mist and the wind”, I went on, smiling. A spark appeared in my muse’s eyes. “I know the perfect gig for you!”

“A gig?” I was confused.

“Musework! You will be good at this!” I couldn’t even answer. I was suddenly part of a whirlwind, taken away in an instant. We arrived in the shortage of a gasp. A garden in a misty light, with hedges in full scented bloom of lilac and white beauty, too high to look over. “A maze?” My muse nodded. “Come on in!” the path led to a stone well, the sunlight only shy sparkling on its water surface. Beside the well, there sat a girl with long dark locks and a grumpy face. “This is your first client”, my muse whispered. “Go over to her and ask, what’s so troubling. Don’t be shy! Go on!”

The surrounding had such a noble, antique flair, that, although the girl wore modern clothes, a “Hi” or a “Hello” wouldn’t pass my lips. The traveling per whirlwind must have let my brain in total chaos, because, was I actually said was: “Oh, fair lady, what is troubling your heart?” I really didn’t think, that I could get away with that, but to my sincere surprise, the girl didn’t care at all. “What shall I do? What shall I do?” Yes, she said it twice. “There is this boy, you know.” I sat down and nodded wisely, whilst she continued. “He is really cute and I like him a lot. Well, I think I do, I am not sure. I never spoke to him alone, you know. There are always other people around us. I think, he might be wonderful, I’m just not that sure. I mean, I am sure, that I like him more than other boys. And I don’t think, that he has a clue about that. I really want to talk to him.”

“So, you want to be alone with him?”, I summarized her wish.

She nodded. “Yes, that is what I want!” It sounded a bit surprised. “But how can a manage that? I surely don’t want to go on a date with him. I want to meet him naturally, if that makes any sense.”

“It makes a lot of sense”, I assured her. “A date sets a lot of pressure on both of you. And first you want to know, if he really is the right one for a date, as I understand.”

“Yes, exactly!” She smiled, as if she had a really good idea. “I know, what to do! At some point next week, I will have to go to the music school, to pick up the scarf, that I left there. I will go on Wednesday, right when his guitar-lesson ends. Then we can walk together a bit.” She seemed very pleased with her idea. “Then I will know”, she added. She smiled, as she looked up to me. “Thank you so much.” “I didn’t do anything”, I replied. She stood up and ran away with feather-light steps.

“What place is this?”, I asked my muse, as she came over to me, her gentle smile brightening up her divine beauty with a golden shimmer.

“This is the maze of the lost hearts”, she said. “People who love, get lost in here, whilst they are dreaming. To show them the way out is a good job for a muse in training like yourself.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but she stopped me gently: “You don’t need to tell me, that you don’t know, if you are good enough at it. You will try and you will find your way. That’s how we all started.”

A surprisingly loud sigh let me turn around. A young man wobbled on our glade. He looked miserable and was pale as the moonlight. “My heart”, he whispered, before he fell down. “My poor heart!” He crawled to the well and put his fingers in the refreshing water.

“He needs a doctor”, I said shocked.

“He needs a muse”, my muse replied. She gave me a sweet little kiss on the head and vanished in magic.